Cross the Line
by macawtopia
Summary: When Ginny tries to corner Draco to get the scoop on what she knows will be the greatest article she'll ever write, she ends up getting more than she bargained for. As does Draco: between keeping his father's mental (and on occasion, nearly lethal) schemes under control, hiding his murky past and trying to avoid enjoying Ginny's company too much - some lines will have to be crossed


So, this takes place after the war, and it follows the books except for the fact that, obviously, Harry and Ginny are no longer together. I hope you enjoy it =]

* * *

It was early in the morning, May 2nd 2001, and Draco Malfoy was sitting idly at the Ministry of Magic, in his corner office.

But although he _looked_ bored and in need of something to do, he actually had a rather large stack of papers to file, financial matters to settle and agreements to sign for the Ministry. On top of that, he had about a truckload of family business to resolve; his father had always been the equivalent of the Godfather in the less sparkly parts wizarding world, and his influence and black deals made him more money than his real job ever had. But now that Lucius's reputation had been shot, and he'd resigned from the ministry, Draco was forced to do his all of his father's dirty work.

It was never anything _too_ incriminating, but every now and then Draco's father needed him to check out the loyalties of another wizard at the ministry, or lessen ministry security in a certain department to facilitate a smuggling operation.

Oh yes, just because the Dark Lord was gone and the Malfoy's had publicly renounced the old ways, it didn't mean that the family had become a pack of angels.

But that morning, Draco simply wasn't in the mood to be his father's puppet. So, after reading the carefully encrypted note that had been left on his desk, instructing him to rig a major ex-Death Eater's upcoming trial, he merely leaned back in his chair and yawned.

Setting crazed murderers loose on the world could wait; he was bloody tired.

Putting his arms on his desk and his head in his arms, Draco closed his eyes and prepared for a quick power nap. But just as the comfortable haze that precludes sleep started to pervade his mind, he heard the loud clipping noise of his secretary Maria's high heels approaching. Then, the mahogany doors to his comfortable office _whooshed_ open, fanning Draco's face with a light breeze. The sound of footsteps finally stopped in front of his desk.

Draco didn't even bother looking up at his waiting employee; he'd never been overly polite to Maria. After all, her job _was_ pointless; all of his news could be sent to him by magic. Her main job was to relay his father's messages, which made him even less glad to see her.

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy." Her voice matched her personality; polite and artificial, "I trust you received the memo I left on your desk."

Draco lifted his head slightly, so that only his tousled blond hair and grey eyes could be seen above his arms. "The one about freeing that guilty nutcase for forty thousand galleons? I got it", he mumbled darkly.

For a moment, Maria looked shocked at Draco's careless remark. Her expression almost made him laugh. Then, "Mr. Malfoy! Oh you _are_ funny, sir." Her strained smile reminded Draco of a child in a school photo.

Sitting up, he rolled his eyes, "Give it a _rest_, you idiot, no one heard me. And tell my father that I'll take care of it."

Maria's expression was blank, but Draco could almost _hear_ the glare in her voice, "If you're not more careful, you're going to get into some deep trouble, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco almost groaned; how stupid _was_ this girl? Didn't she realize that his room had been magically soundproofed from the inside, or that he had detector spells all through the hallway? If anyone whom his shield charm didn't recognize entered it, Draco would be magically alerted.

"_Thank_ you, Maria. Now leave, I'm tired."

And she left. But not before depositing Draco's usual copy of the Prophet on his desk. Draco would've ignored it -given his current state of apathetic boredom - except the headline was not the sort that allowed itself to be ignored: THIRD ANNIVERSARY OF YOU KNOW WHO'S DOWNFALL!

Immediately below this read: BOY WHO LIVED SHARES NEVER BEFORE HEARD STORIES OF THE ROAD TO VICTORY!

And below this was an almost full page picture of Harry Potter himself. Draco could practically hear the screaming girls. The thought alone was enough to give him a bit of a headache.

Briefly scanning the article, Draco felt nothing but disgust. According to the article, the brave, selfless and wonderful Harry Potter had triumphed over the evil Death Eaters single handedly, and practically no one else's actions during the war had really mattered. It made the whole thing seem like a grand fairytale adventure, where good triumphed over evil and the entire world lived happily ever after. The article _also_ failed to mention that the victory would never have happened, had it not been for the Death Eaters who had secretly worked to stop Voldemort.

They never met up, and they weren't as organized as the Order of the Pheonix, but without them, Voldemort would have killed millions of more people, and risen to power much sooner. They were like the few Nazi's who'd tried to assassinate Hitler; only they'd been _much_ more careful. Nothing was left to chance, and these people were just as willing to die for justice as Potter and pals. Except for them, the stakes were much higher; if Voldemort caught one of his _own_ Death Eaters working against him, he would always torture them personally. Make them beg for death, as he liked to say.

The world knew nothing, or next to nothing about these wizards and witches, and they never would. This was because Draco knew that his story, along with theirs, was not the sort of thing that the celebrating wizarding world would ever want to hear.

* * *

Draco had always hated attending commemorative events, especially the annual "_Dark Lord's Downfall Ball_."

No, honestly. That was what they called this self-congratulatory nightmare of a night.

Everyone at these 'celebrations' liked to give him smug looks, as if they were trying to say, "That's right, we defeated _your_ lot, and now we're celebrating it. What do you think of _that?_" Thankfully, though, tonight Draco only had to stay for a little while. He'd just show his face to all of the important guests, prove that the Malfoy clan regarded the end of the war with nothing but the utmost joy, and slip out early.

In fact, Draco had been at the soiree for all of ten minutes, and already he had had just about all he could stomach. He was just preparing to make a polite but hasty exit, when he noticed a commotion near the far entrance of the hall.

_Ah, of course. The Tiresome Trio and their groupies. _

But, to Draco's immense surprise, all eyes were _not_ on Potter today. Instead, everyone seemed to be focused on the petite redhead dressed in a sapphire blue gown who stood a few feet behind him; the little Weasel girl. Vaguely curious as to why that was, Draco edged nearer to group.

Carefully remaining hidden in the crowd, he was able to hear only snippets of what was being said:

"Oh, it was beautifully written, Miss Weasley. I felt like I was there with Harry the whole time!"

"Congratulations on your first article in the Prophet, you've a fine future ahead of you!"

"Well _done_, Miss Weasley!"

"The article made me want to eat my own eyeballs so that they would be spared the suffering, Weasley."

Draco's cool voice could barely be heard over the calls of other shouting wizards and witches, but Ginny heard him as clearly as if he'd had whispered into her ear. Looking out into the crowd, she frowned, "Who said that?"

But Draco had already disappeared.

* * *

Thanks for reading =]


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